


In Hiding.

by cuddlepuss



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angels, Gen, Guardian Archangel, Hunters, Monsters, Original Characters - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-05
Updated: 2014-04-05
Packaged: 2018-01-18 06:52:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1418942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuddlepuss/pseuds/cuddlepuss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're in hiding from the Supernatural beasts that would tear you apart, your guardian angel is out of reach, so who is it that comes to your side?</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Hiding.

It was a cold, grim, dark day. Dawn barely managed to show its face past the heavy fog blocking the morning light and dimming the usual bright spring day. Your breath appeared as little misty white clouds in the chilly air of the early morn. An icy cold wind blew through the cracked window panes of the derelict cabin you were sheltering in. Colder than you’d ever been in your life, you shivered in the musty half-light of the barely-still-lit fire you’d gotten going the night before.

You knew there was little point in what you were doing, still, you had to try, you just didn’t have it in you to roll over and give up. You were too much your parents child for that, they’d roll in their graves if you just threw in the towel and submitted, besides, pride alone wouldn’t let you. If you were going down, you’d make them work for it, and take as many of them with you as you could.

A smirk lit your pale features as you imagined the look of chagrin on the face of Crowley when he discovered his ‘perfect angel trap’ was empty, not only having failed to hold you, but not having caught your guardian angel either. Even if it was the only comfort you had at present, it was something, no matter how little. Your grin turned upside down when you thought of the message he’d forced you to leave for Mr. Singer. 

Mr. Singer you only knew vaguely through your late parents, but he’d always seemed like a good, if grumpy, man. Helpful, reluctantly caring and full of advice and funny stories of hunters, monsters and angels. He, in turn, made you think of your guardian angel, a short-ish guy with a sense of humour similar to your own and a wicked sense of justice. Hair the colour of toffee, and eyes to match, usually lit with a gleam of humour, Gabriel, your Archangel of a guardian, was one of the most physically alluring male forms you’d ever laid eyes on, and you’d seen a fair few.

People tended to think that, just like Jo Harvelle, your life was one that was hard, full of hunters, monsters and drunks, with one parent a hunter, and the other a publican. Not necessarily true though. The customers at your Dad’s bar knew enough to leave you well enough alone, and not just because of your Dad’s overly protective manner to you, but because of your own reputation as a bit of a fighter – you held the tri-state title for cage fighting in your weight, against all comers. Then there was the little matter of your Mum’s being a well-known hunter with a deadly accurate aim with knife of gun and a temper to match for anyone playing fast and loose with her ‘little princess’.

Another wry smile lit your face as you recalled, with some amusement, how she’d gone after Dean Winchester when he’d attempted to play fast and loose, despite you telling him you weren’t interested in him. Your smile grew picturing his face when you’d snogged Sam instead to get the message across. Still, as the howls of the gathering hoards intensified in volume and frequency , your smile was wiped off your face and you accepted the fact that you were unlikely to make it out of this alive.

A sudden burst of light flashed into existence through the curtained windows, and screams of beasts in agony tore through the frosted air of the early morning darkness. Retorts of gunfire and minor explosions filled the sky and made your ears ring, to the extent that you didn’t fear the gentle flutter of wings behind you, so you spun round in fear as a hand landed on your shoulder. Your snagged the revolver out of your waistband and took aim with your gun hand, even as your other hand reached out for your precious laptop, unwilling, even on the point of death, to risk anyone else getting their hands on it. 

Even with its super advanced encryption systems and anti-hacker software, you were paranoid about its safety, even more so than your own. YOU could be tortured into giving up information, or killed. The computer, however, with the right technical persuasion, would give up all its secrets and no harm need be done to it. The hand on your shoulder started to, gently, remove itself from your touch as you beheld the being before you.

He was roughly six foot tall, slender without being skinny, and had untidy short dark hair and vivid blue eyes. Eyes that were entreating you to trust him. You slit your eyes, trying to read him, but failing abysmally. He wore a dark, rumpled suit with a back to front tie, and an equally rumpled tan trench coat. A gentle hand once more gripped your shoulder, and, in the blink of an eye, you were at a different location, one that was unfamiliar, yet not strange, as though you’d been there years before, or in a long forgotten dream.

Frowning in concentration, you were so lost in your thoughts you failed to notice one, particular detail of the room you were now in – your guardian angel was in there with you and the other being. As he thanked the one he called ‘Castiel’, you heard his oh-so-familiar-voice, and snapped your gaze round to him. Castiel, with a simple _”You’re welcome Gabriel.”_ disappeared with the gentle flapping of his invisible wings, and was gone.

Now you looked at him, Gabriel didn’t look as good as he normally did. He was …..pale, tired looking, and seemed unusually weak, almost – dare you say it – human. With a faint smile, he beckoned you over, wincing with the effort of moving even that much. When you sat beside him, he told you of his experience at ‘Hotel Elysian Fields’, his ‘death’ at Lucifer’s hand, and his coming back as a mortal until such time as he could prove his deserving having his wings back to his father.

One small point in his father’s favour, in his quest to regain his wings, he’d let Gabriel retain his ability to hear anyone that prayed direct to him, and to contact his brothers, to so if any of them would be willing to help if it was a prayer for assistance or salvation, as yours had been. Thank the father that Castiel had had a few minutes and the inclination to assist one of his less able brother’s aid one of his faithful followers. That he’d cared enough to save you. 

Learning more about the situation Gabriel was in, and him learning more about yours, you decided to work together, to help one another to further your join knowledge and abilities in the quest to bring down the beasts that Armageddon had released on the Earth. With your computer skills and humanity, and Gabriel’s vast knowledge of the laws and lores of angel, man and demon kind, you actually had a fighting chance. Let battle commence.

**Author's Note:**

> Written when I was in a particularly dark depression with a heck of a lot going on in my personal life.
> 
> This is the way my subconscious mind chose to attempt to throw off those worries.


End file.
